We were lucky to catch up with Hayley Roussel recently and have shared our conversation below.
Hayley, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.
I learned what I do through a mix of instinct, persistence, and a deep-rooted need to create. Art has always pulled me in but choosing it as a career wasn’t exactly met with open arms. Even the people closest to me—people I love—worried it wasn’t realistic. They wanted stability for me, something more traditional, something they could understand. However, I chose art anyway. I think the biggest “risk” I took overall was changing my major “one more time”….*GASP* to studio art; I surrounded myself with color and concept, like-minded people, and I kept painting even when the path ahead wasn’t clear. Every brushstroke became a quiet act of defiance, a promise to myself that I’d figure it out, eventually. “What I know now” is also a credit to all of the artists before me, all of my artist peers, deep-rooted friendships, and my teachers, college professors at LSU and grade school teachers all taught me a lot.
Getting to where I am hasn’t been easy, and I am still learning, figuring it out along the way. I still hold a 9–5 job—there’s nothing wrong with that. It helps support the life I’m building as an artist. I’ve learned that doing your best in both worlds is still doing your best. Looking back, I think the most important skills I’ve picked up aren’t just technical—they’re things like discipline, self-trust, the ability to adapt, and learning how to keep going when no one’s clapping yet. I would’ve saved time by trusting myself earlier, by tuning out the doubt—mine and others’—and letting the work lead. Because the truth is, I’m still here, still painting, still learning, and more committed than ever to this life I chose for myself.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I am Hayley Roussel, a painter and mixed media artist based in New Orleans. My work is rooted in storytelling—pulling from the rich textures, architecture, wildlife, and layered history of Louisiana/ sometimes other environments. I create original paintings, custom commissions, murals, and public art that reflect the spirit of place. Whether it’s a vibrant street scene, a misty marshland, or a reimagined local landmark, my pieces aim to honor the beauty, grit, and complexity of the Gulf South.
I got into this work by following a pull I couldn’t ignore. Even though I was discouraged early on—told art wasn’t a “practical” path—I chose to major in it anyway. I built my practice through persistence: painting in the margins of my life, taking on commissions, saying yes, yes, yes to community-based projects, and staying open to growth. Over time, I found my rhythm. Today, I still work a 9–5 job alongside my art practice. It’s not always easy, but it allows me to support myself while continuing to build something meaningful, and I don’t believe one path should cancel out the other.
I’ve had the opportunity to paint murals, participate in festivals like Gretna Fest and Raising Cane’s fried chicken fest, do live paintings at events and in competitions, and contribute to initiatives like ‘Sing for Hope’ and the ‘Paul Maillard’ corridor revitalization. I also offer functional artwork, including hand-painted wooden cup holders designed to hold “Geaux Cups” or Mardi Gras cups—something uniquely practical and deeply rooted in New Orleans culture. (meant to hang as a functional painting in a kitchen, bar, or sitting room).
Alongside my partner, Kelsey, my twin sister, Heidi, and other artists/peers, I (we) aim to create a world that is beautiful and meaningful. I love giving back to the communities that shaped/continue to shape me, and I want to inspire and encourage others to express themselves and find comfort in art even when the world is chaotic.
What sets my work apart is its sense of place and heart. My goal isn’t just to make something beautiful—it’s to create pieces that feel alive, connected to a deeper story. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, especially in a world that often asks artists to justify their path. And I hope that through my work, people see not only the color and movement—but also the care, the history, and the persistence behind it.
Any insights you can share with us about how you built up your social media presence?
Building my audience on social media has always been a slow, organic process. I didn’t have a big strategy when I started—I just shared what I was working on and let people in. Over time, I realized that people connect just as much with the why behind the art and the process, just as much as they do with the finished piece. So I try to share that—whether it’s the story behind a painting, process shots or videos, or what inspired a certain color palette or subject.
That said, social media can be exhausting. As an artist, it sometimes feels like the expectation is to constantly create content instead of just creating art. The pressure to be visible, polished, trendy—it can take up a lot of energy and pull your focus away from the studio. I’ve definitely had moments where I’ve questioned how much of myself I should share, or felt frustrated that the algorithms don’t reward authenticity in the same way they reward noise.
But I’ve learned to treat it like a tool—not the goal. In fact, I owe a lot to “social media.” I have made genuine connections, friends, clients, accepted business ventures, and kept in touch with all other artists. I try to show up with honesty, and when I post, it’s because I have something real to share. I still believe that people can sense when something is genuine, even online. I use my platform to highlight events, murals, commissions, and new pieces, but also the quieter, in-between moments that make my creative life feel whole.
A quote that I have seen – somewhere in the land of social media: “To be cringe is to be free.” This has stuck with me, because in the same way I question how much of myself to share online, I also wonder “why not?” “Will someone judge me, or laugh at me?” My partner also told me once, when I was discouraged about not getting enough likes on Instagram, “If 15-20 people were in this room right now and said they “liked your painting,” that would be pretty amazing.” As creatives, we need to stop putting so much pressure on ourselves to perform for social media.
That being said, my advice to anyone starting out is this: you don’t have to go viral to be valid. You don’t have to post every day or perform your life to be seen. Focus on sharing your story and your work in a way that feels true to you. A slow-growing, engaged, and honest audience is more meaningful—and more lasting—than chasing trends. Keep creating. Your people will find you.
Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.
Honestly, one of the hardest things for non-creatives to fully grasp is that being an artist isn’t just something we choose—taking the easy way out-it’s something we have to do. It’s how we process life, how we make sense of the world around us. If I go too long without painting, I don’t feel like myself. Creating is tied to identity, to mental health, to meaning.
And it’s not easy. People sometimes think creativity comes naturally or that we’re just out here having fun with paint, but they don’t always see the full picture. There’s self-doubt, financial stress, burnout, and the constant push to do more—not to mention the juggling act of working a 9–5 while still giving your creative work everything you’ve got.
I think the other big thing is that creative work is real work. It takes discipline, vulnerability, and a whole lot of resilience. When people dismiss it as a hobby or side thing, it stings—because most of us are putting our whole hearts into what we do.
One insight I would offer to someone outside the creative world, it’s this: we’re not doing this because it’s easy…We’re doing it because we have to. And even when it’s hard or uncertain, it’s still worth it—because it gives us a way to connect, to express, and to contribute something meaningful to the world.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://studioroussel.com
- Instagram: @paintlikeapoet
- Facebook: “Hayley Brooke Roussel”
- Other: Link Tree:
https://linktr.ee/hayleyrousselWhere Y’art Works:
https://whereyartworks.com/artist/hayley-roussel/2142
